


Sound

by flux_eterna



Series: Senses [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biting, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flux_eterna/pseuds/flux_eterna
Summary: Shepard and Garrus come down from the heat of battle.  Together.





	Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of "Senses."
> 
> Characters owned by BioWare. 
> 
> NSFW.
> 
> Thanks to ShudderShock for beta reading!

The sound of gunfire stopped, no longer rattling her head from the inside out.  A voice came over the comm, _that voice_.  It made the rattle go away, the insistent jabbing pain from constant blasts.  Gone, at just a few words in just the right tone

“All clear, Commander.”  Shepard heard him smiling; what she could make out of his subharmonics over the comm told her as much.  Garrus Vakarian, smug as ever—knew _exactly_ what a victorious fight such as the one they were walking out of did to her, and the tone he used told her that he _fully_ intended on taking advantage of that feeling.

Garrus knew that every shot that hit its mark got Shepard’s blood going, the heat expelled from the bullets that rained from their trio not only filling their heat sinks, but also traveling _directly_ to her core.  She didn’t get off on killing, per se—she got off on _winning_.

And that day, win they had.

Shepard, Garrus, and Tali got through the Normandy’s decontamination process.  While Tali merely had to clean her suit, Garrus and Shepard had to get the multi-colored blood spatter scrubbed from their armor.  How Tali managed to keep her suit so clean, the other two would never know.

Tali had already made her way back to engineering, while Garrus and Shepard took off their armor to have it cleaned.  Piece by piece, they stripped down until they were in nothing but their tight, black undersuits.  Shepard put the last piece—her helmet—in the cleaning unit, and before she turned around to head up to her cabin to get rid of the undersuit, a large, ungloved, taloned hand came to rest on the left side of her neck, thumb running up the back of her scalp.  The right side accepted the heat of familiar proximity.

Garrus got close enough to hear her pulse through the throbbing artery in her neck; still thundering, not yet slowing—she hadn’t come down from her victory high yet, and Garrus liked it that way.  He breathed over Shepard’s neck, and whispered with needy undertones, “I want you on my console in ten minutes, _Commander_.”

At the use of her title in that context, Shepard let off a visible, audible shudder.  The tones his subharmonics let out didn’t help her cause, either.  She knew what to expect when he got in this mood—the one where he was especially keen on using her title and bending her to his will in an unbidden display of insubordination. 

Their sessions often varied based on what name he felt like calling her.  When they made love, he called her Jane.  When they had a quickie with what little spare time they’d be able to scrounge up, he’d call her Shepard.  ‘Commander,’ however, was reserved for a very specific, very _dominant_ mood. 

Garrus smirked and let his left mandible brush across the right side of her neck, clicking when it fell back in place against his jaw.  He took his time releasing the grip he had on the other side of her neck, letting his talons drag over the skin as he pulled back.  Without another word, Garrus stalked over to the elevator as he left Shepard standing in the hangar. 

She watched with a raised eyebrow as the elevator doors hissed closed, obscuring the view of her turian.  Just as he left, her omni-tool beeped with a message.

_[G. Vakarian 1403] Oh, and Commander.  Don’t shower.  I love the smell of battle on you._

_[J. Shepard 1403] You got it, big guy.  See you soon._

Shepard wore a smile as she hit send, a blush creeping up her face.  Putting the last of her things away, she got in the elevator and arrived on the crew deck.  She needed a quick snack; the confrontation with the Blue Suns from which they returned drained a fair amount of her energy, and she needed to replenish herself before making her way to the main battery.  Shepard consumed her snack at a hurried pace, needing to expel the heat that wouldn’t leave the valley between her legs—her battle high giving way to insatiable desire.

Shepard trekked up the stairs toward the main battery, and before she could plant her hand on the console to open the doors, they parted.  She walked in, and they swiftly closed behind her as the interface turned red with a command from Garrus’ omni-tool.

They were not to be disturbed.

Shepard leaned back against the closed doors of the battery, and Garrus quickly turned around from his station at the console.  His eyes roved over her from toe to scalp, devouring every last inch with his gaze.  When he walked over to her, he stood tantalizingly close to Shepard’s form, bringing his arms up to plant his hands on either side of her head, effectively caging her with his body.  She felt heat rolling off of him.

Not a word was said, but the heaving coming from both of their chests reverberated through the room—deep breaths, _intent_ breaths, as Shepard craned her neck to peer up Garrus.  Towering over her, Garrus followed suit as they peered directly into the eyes of the other, almost as if to see who would dart away first.

Neither did.

Shepard held his gaze, as she brought her hands up to rest on either side of Garrus’ cowl.  The touch elicited a gentle hum from Garrus’ second voice box that seemed to vibrate the little bit of air that hovered between them.  The preceding fight had already heated Shepard’s blood, and the rumble in the air only intensified the growing predicament of the _need_ at the apex of her thighs.

“I’m going to make this very clear for you, _Commander_ ,” Garrus started, a hum that Shepard had learned to associate strictly with arousal accompanied her title as it left his mouth.  He leaned down so his next words went directly into her ear, hot breath a gentle tickle in the canal and down her neck.  “I would ask for you to forgive the insubordination, but I have no intentions of apologizing for what I’m about to do to you.”

Shepard’s breath grew yet heavier.  His voice was doing things to her that she had only ever felt with him—no experience prior could compare.  She felt her underwear dampen further, the undertones that belied his words hitting her ears and traveling directly to that low spot in her gut.

Still not removing his arms from the cage they held her in, Garrus stared at Shepard as she ran her hands up the rounded shape of his cowl, then trailed them down to his sensitive waist, knowing full well what she was getting herself into.  In truth, she _loved_ when he got like this, and it was almost always after the heat of a winning fight.  She’s learned quickly that it had the same effect on Garrus as it had on her—it ignited a heat between the two that could only be tended to in one way.

One squeeze to his side, and Garrus let out a low growl as blue fire ignited his stare.  The noise made Shepard’s heart beat hard in her chest.  She continued rubbing and squeezing him there, as he removed one of his hands from its position next to her head to grasp the zipper at the collar of her undersuit between his taloned fingers.  Slowly, he pulled it down until he had access to the curve of her clavicle.

Garrus bent his wrist to slide his hand under the newly unzipped suit, resting it over her collarbone as he brought his face down to where her shoulder and neck met; he licked over the bond mark that he had placed there a few months prior.  When things got heated between the two, neither had qualms about reopening that wound.  Garrus was expecting to do as much in short time.

At the lick to her bond mark, Shepard tilted her head aside to give Garrus the room to maneuver in whatever way he pleased.  His rough tongue over that spot shot goosebumps over her flesh, pebbling over her skin as her breath hitched.  Shepard ran her hands up to his neck, moving beneath his fringe to prod at one of his most sensitive spots.  Her touch earned her a growl and an insistent scrape of his teeth over the vulnerable flesh of her neck.

Garrus took his hand from her collarbone and returned it to the zipper of her undersuit, pulling it down to peel the garment off of her shoulders; it clung to the curve of her hips, not quite falling to the floor.  He slipped his hand up the now exposed expanse of her midsection, scraping a talon just beneath the lower band of her sports bra.

Shepard took the hint and reached her hands down, removing them from her ministrations to the sensitive hide beneath his fringe, but he abruptly stopped her, with a single word: “No.”

She quirked an eyebrow up, and Garrus slid a finger under the garment more fully.  The _rip_ from his talons puncturing and splitting the fabric caused Shepard’s knees go weak, her eyes to narrow.  She brought her hands to either side of his face as he discarded the unnecessary, now destroyed fabric. Pulling Garrus into a passionate kiss, Shepard allowed him access as his tongue slipped out of his mouth and into hers. She could feel as well as hear the sounds traveling from his chest and vocal cords; the sensations gliding against her tongue, down her throat.

Their faces parted with a quiet, wet _smack_ ; panting from both parties followed.

“Where do you want me?”  Shepard asked him, a sultry whisper as she stared into the blue, crystalline depths of his eyes.

“Commander.” He started, “I thought you’d never ask.”  Garrus’ response was devious; he clearly had plans that Shepard wasn’t privy to.

He reached his hand up to the back of her scalp, gripping a sizeable portion of hair and _pulled_ , her head fell back with his tug and Garrus took the opportunity to lick the column of her neck, traveling up her throat all the way to her chin.  The slight scraping sound of his tongue tasting her had Shepard’s eyes closing; a moan falling from her lips.

Satisfied that he had her properly riled up, Garrus gripped her waist with his large, three-fingered hands and pulled her body away from the closed doors that she was propped up against.  They backed up a few paces, and Garrus encouraged her to turn around, his grip guiding her the whole time.  He pushed her against the main console until she was bent over, breasts pressed firmly against the interface screen. 

Shepard heard him undoing the clasps of his undersuit before she felt the tug of Garrus pulling hers to the floor.  With a snarl, he ripped the underwear she still bore from her body. 

“I’m really going to have to invest in an underwear back stock, gods, Garrus.”  Shepard was half joking, but her stock in undergarments _had_ drastically dwindled since their relationship began. 

Garrus let out an amused grunt, before leaning his body over hers so he could whisper in her ear.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my methods, _Commander_.”

Garrus pushed her hair to the side and ran his talons down her back. Starting at the base of her skull, he admired every vertebrae with a gentle touch, and when he reached the small of her back, drew his hand away and down to palm at her ass. 

At first, Garrus only squeezed gently.  Shepard felt him pull away, and their skin reunited with a _slap—_ not hard enough to _truly_ hurt, but enough for her to let out a sharp gasp as his hand met the meaty muscle of her rear.

Shepard smiled to herself as she turned her head to look up at Garrus as he hovered over her.  He ran his hands back up her sides as she did so, pausing briefly at the dip in her waist.  While he appreciated its slimness, he knew that attentions there would not have the same effect as they would on a turian woman.  They’d taken their time in working out these kinks, though—and whenever Garrus’ hands stopped there, Shepard appreciated the gesture for what it meant in his language.  _I love this damned turian_ , she thought to herself.  Her eyes said everything she needed them to when she met Garrus’ gaze.

He brought his left hand over Shepard’s where it lied on the console as the other reached to tease her right breast.  Garrus hand gripped, nipple stiffening in response; Shepard let out a satisfied sigh.  His finger slipped over the pink, pebbled flesh and down over her rib cage, around her abdomen and down to her swollen, sensitive clit.

Once Garrus’ finger brushed over her bundle of nerves, Shepard gasped—the utterance causing him to double down; he applied more pressure and started pushing down as he moved in slow circles.  He leaned over yet closer, until their skin was flush with the each other’s. 

Shepard felt the air lick the space between her thighs; the slick fluids glistening around her entrance caused the air hitting her there to gain a subtle chill.  The chill didn’t last long, however, as she felt something hot, slick, and heavy brush up between her legs.  Shepard felt the weight of Garrus’ slippery, ridged cock glide against her inner thigh—fluids mingling on the wet skin there.

Shepard reached her free hand between their legs to run her fingers along the underside of Garrus’ length, admiring each soft ridge as she pushed up—his stiff member pressing firmly along her folds as she bucked her hips back for more contact. 

“Allow me, Commander.”  Garrus huffed into her ear, removing her hand from its duty and back to the console, adjacent to the other.  He surged forward, not entering her yet; but continuing brushing up against her aching pussy, hitting her clit at the top of every slow, agonizing thrust.  Garrus made his cock slicker with every surge, collecting some of Shepard’s arousal on his length as he smeared it over her labia with every back and forth move that he made. 

Shepard moaned every time he hit that spot, making Garrus more eager; that eagerness sounding out clearly from his second larynx.  As always, the noises from him drove Shepard _crazy_ in the _best_ possible way.  She started bucking her hips back to increase the friction, palms on the console as Garrus’ hands came around to grip her at the hips.

She stood up on her tiptoes, giving Garrus a better angle so to brush her clit with the tip of his member.  A few more thrusts, and Shepard felt her impending orgasm crest, before he had even formally entered her. 

“Don’t. Stop.”  Shepard panted between her words; and Garrus didn’t stop.  His thrusts grew more eager, harder—continuing to glide over her slit, up to her nub.  The sounds of wet flesh against plates as their bodies met awoke something primal, in the both of them.  One tilt of her hips back as he surged forward brought her to her peak.

Just as she started to come, however, Garrus drew back and slid into the heated embrace of her cunt; he loved feeling her pulse around him, and her moans and gasps alone were a large part of the pleasure derived from their tumbles.

The moans from Shepard’s mounting orgasm were replaced with a sharp scream at the onslaught.

“Too much, Commander?”  Garrus asked, not out of concern—but out of a cocksure sentiment that he had Shepard _right_ where he wanted her. 

“ _Never”_ Was Shepard’s breathy, hitched response.

Garrus punctuated her answer with a sharp thrust—a resounding _slap_ of plates against skin.

“Good.”  He said in turn, bending down so the word went straight to her ear, all the way down to her core as Garrus started pounding into her mercilessly.

Shepard could hear him rapidly losing control of his subharmonics as his length expanded, insistently pressing up against her inner walls, filling her so completely.  Garrus’ thrusts started growing erratic, and he leaned down and licked over the scar tissue of her bond mark once more.

Just as he felt himself approach the edge, he opened his mouth and bit down—hard—puncturing the old wound that had been reopened many times before, the skin there always appearing somewhat raised and angry.  Garrus’ mandibles fluttered uncontrollably, hitting the side of Shepard’s neck and retreating back to his jawline with audible _clicks_ every time.

Shepard’s climax started mounting again at the bite, screaming at the pleasure pains that bombarded her senses.

The taste of blood erupted into Garrus’ mouth, and with a few short, stiff thrusts—he spilled his seed inside of her.  At the sudden rush of heat flooding her insides, Shepard moaned—loud and breathy—and clenched and pulsed around his cock once more.

Their movements slowed in time, until the only sounds in the room were labored breaths and _content_ rumbles and sounds.  Garrus pulled back and as his shaft left her body, a slight wet sound followed.  He helped Shepard back to her feet, then turned her around and lifted her up by the waist, seating her atop the console she’d just been bent over.

Shepard brought her hands to his neck, bringing his head down to meet hers, brow to brow.

“You are so perfect, Jane.”  Garrus’ words had nothing but love layering his subharmonics.  This strange, beautiful, fire of a woman was his and his alone.  He wondered each and every day how a turian like him got so lucky, but damned if he were to question it.

“Hmm.” Shepard hummed, a smile in her tone.  “I am damn glad to have you around, Vakarian.  I love you so much.”

They stayed there for a moment, Garrus brought his hands up to her face, tracing a cheekbone with his finger.  He brought it under her chin, and tilted her face up to meet her lips in the human version of a kiss.

Shepard spoke up after their mouths parted and said, “I would appreciate it, however, if you’d start replenishing my undergarment supply.  But that’s my only complaint, _Officer_.”

The two shared a laugh, enjoying together some rare moments of peace.

They curled up on his cot, and their breathing with the backdrop hum of the Normandy carried them both to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @robinapril


End file.
